


It Really Looks Like a Regular T-shirt but Okay

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: GerIta Oneshots [8]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 08:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: Feliciano picked the coffee mug up and slammed it back down. "We have togo, Ludwig. I don't have time for any of yoursleepnonsense or any of yourtrampling worries—I have to get toBonnefoy'sbefore the lines get too long, and you need to come with me."





	It Really Looks Like a Regular T-shirt but Okay

**Author's Note:**

> **Anonymous said:** Ger and ita Go Black Friday shopping!
> 
> **For those of you not in the know: Black Friday is the day after Thanksgiving in America where a bunch of shit is on sale.**
> 
> **It's. A big deal.**

Feliciano slammed the coffee mug on the side table. "Ludwig."

Ludwig didn't open his eyes. "It's eleven 'o'clock." He pressed his head back firmly into the pillow.

Feliciano picked the coffee mug up and slammed it back down. "We have to  _go_ , Ludwig. I don't have time for any of your  _sleep_  nonsense or any of your  _trampling_  worries—I have to get to  _Bonnefoy's_  before the lines get too long, and  _you_  need to come with me."

Ludwig pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you're so worried about being  _trampled_ , don't go."

" _I'm_  not worried about being trampled,  _you_  are worried about  _me_  being trampled, and you're usually right about things, and you made me worried about being trampled, so you have to come now. This is all your fault."

"Being trampled has nothing to do with height or muscle mass."

Feliciano turned and sat on Ludwig's stomach. Ludwig's eyes snapped open, and he let out a gruff laugh, pulling his hands out from underneath the covers and grabbing Feliciano. He pulled Feliciano next to him and pressed his cold nose into Feliciano's neck.

"Let's go back to sleep," Ludwig said.

Feliciano wiggled. "Ludwig, I  _need_  that shirt. I  _need_  it." Feliciano grabbed Ludwig's massive arm and shook him. It was like shaking a mountain. "Ludwig, I need your mountain body to protect me from the crowds. You're like a bouncer."

"I'm a lawyer," Ludwig mumbled.

"Yeah, but a  _huge_ , muscle-y lawyer. I'm terrified of you, and I've seen you cry at  _A Dog's Life_."

"That was a terrible movie."

Feliciano sat up. "I'm sure they'll have a Keurig machine on sale."

Ludwig groaned and rolled over onto his back again. "I'm only going for the Keurig machine."

"And because you  _love_  me." Feliciano poked Ludwig's massive pectoral. "Because you  _love_  me." Feliciano sprang out of bed. "I left you coffee on the side table, I'm going to get you a scary outfit together so people don't fuck around with us—I'm going to make you look terrifying."

Feliciano rifled through his closet until he found what he was looking for. He threw it in Ludwig's general direction.

"This is yours," Ludwig said from underneath the sweater.

"Yeah."

"This isn't going to fit at all."

Feliciano threw jeans at Ludwig. "Yeah. It has to be tight so people see your muscles and are super intimidated and oh my God it's eleven-thirty, we need to get going or the lines are going to be  _impossible_ , put on your tight clothes, Mr. Man."

 

* * *

 

"I'm not standing in this line."

Feliciano stood on the tip of his toes. It didn't help much with the view, but maybe he could bullshit Ludwig—

"I know you can't see over everyone's heads," Ludwig said.

"You  _have_  to stand in line." Feliciano threw his hands in the air. "It's the whole appeal of Black Friday! Standing in lines and shopping for, like, five minutes, and then standing in another, even  _longer_  line to purchase the thing you want!"

Ludwig crossed his arms. His biceps bulged in the sweater. He didn't seem convinced.

"Keurig machine, Ludwig. Do it for the Keurig machine."

"I'm a  _lawyer_ , Feliciano. I could just purchase one like a normal, sane adult who has money in their bank account. I don't think I would even notice if I bought one. Bank account-wise."

Feliciano frowned. "Listen  _Ludwig_ , we can't all be  _lawyers_  who went to  _college_  and have a  _real job_.  _Some_  of us have to stand in  _line_  for three hours!"

"Exactly my point: I  _don't_  have to stand in line for three hours."

Feliciano grabbed Ludwig's arm. "Yeah, but then you'll never get a Keurig machine."

"Why's that?"

Feliciano smiled. "Because you could never, ever justify spending the money on it unless it was on sale, and it's never going to be more on sale than today, so you might as well stand in line with me."

Ludwig took a deep breath. His pectorals threatened the integrity of the sweater. Feliciano hoped, faintly, the sweater would give up under the strain.

"Fine," Ludwig relented. "What do you even want to get here?"

"A shirt. Trust me, if I go into any more specifics, it's going to make your head spin."

Ludwig looked around. "I mean, we're going to be here for hours. It's not like there's anything else to talk about."

Feliciano heaved a sigh. "Bonnefoy is one of  _the_  best fashion designers of this day and age. His eye for color and his cut and his general personality just—he just makes such  _nice_  clothes Ludwig, it's actually inspiring. I saw his more recent line on TV during and I was just so honored that a man could inspire me with  _fabric_."

Ludwig nodded, like all the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. "Is this why you bought a sewing machine?"

"It doesn't matter why I bought the sewing machine," Feliciano said quickly, trying to move past the looming 'credit card bill' conversation. "What  _matters_  is that he has made  _the_  most  _perfect_  shirt and I  _need_  to be wearing it. Do you know how Lovino would  _flip_?"

Ludwig's whole body tensed, and Feliciano stood on the tips of his toes again, but the doors did not open. Ludwig relaxed and looked back at Feliciano. "I think the last thing your brother needs is another reason to  _flip_."

Feliciano waved away the negativity. "He rubbed in the fact he got a  _Ferrari_ , now it's my turn. And not to mention the  _dinner parties_."

Ludwig frowned. "I thought you  _liked_  dinner parties."

"Of course I like dinner parties, but you have to show up to  _impress_  Ludwig, you can't just show up in a regular, old suit—"

Ludwig looked like he was going to interject with all the reasons a regular, old suit got the job done very well—  
"Not that there's anything  _wrong_  with a regular, old suit, but sometimes, Ludwig, I just want to talk into the room and  _know_ I'm the most fashionable one there, that  _I'm_  the hottest ticket there."

Ludwig was clearly trying to avoid smiling. "I think you are always handsome."

Feliciano grinned. "That was a very nice thing to say, but no, we can't go home early, but it was a very good attempt."

The line grew a little more restless as the minute hand continued to tick past midnight. Ludwig looked like he was this close to throwing Feliciano over his shoulder and glaring at anyone who  _dared_  jostle them. As it was, he dug his elbow into the man behind Feliciano who had clearly gotten too far into Feliciano's bubble for Ludwig's comfort.

"What does this shirt look like?" Ludwig asked.

"Well, it's blue but it has this really cool fade effect and it more has to do with how the fabric is sewed together, you know? Like he does this really cool thing where the shirts aren't really  _fancy_  but the way they're sewed—"

Ludwig shook his head. "Here's the game plan: we are going to find your shirt, get the Keurig machine, and get out. I do  _not_  want to stand in another line."

"But Ludwig I need to try the shirts on."

Ludwig looked around the line a little desperately. "You  _really_  want this shirt?"

"I literally wouldn't be standing in this line in the freezing cold if I didn't."

Ludwig let out a deep, forlorn sigh. "Alright, fine, just get a couple shirts in different sizes and then try them on at home. Return the ones that don't fit later."

Feliciano nearly cheered. "Ludwig that's a  _great_  idea! I was all worried how we were going to get through the lines quickly—especially the changing room—"

The doors had been opened.

The crowd surged forward and, for a moment, Feliciano feared he and Ludwig would be separated. But then Ludwig threw an arm around Feliciano and pulled him close. He proceeded to drag Feliciano through the forest of people, using his massive frame to cut through the crowd like a hot knife through butter.

_ This _ , Feliciano thought,  _is so hot._

Feliciano had no idea how Ludwig knew where to go, but he certainly turned into a human GPS the second the two of them breeched the doors. He hauled Feliciano after him, who was nothing more than a boat born on the immutable tide that was Ludwig in search of a Keurig machine.

Suddenly, Feliciano was standing in front of a glorious display rack of Bonnefoy's beautiful tops. Feliciano was dazzled by the sudden choices; he had forgotten how breathtaking Bon—

"Feliciano," Ludwig boomed, " _quickly_ , the shirt!"

"It's really more of a  _top_ —"

" _Feliciano_!"

Feliciano scrambled to find what he was looking for. Ludwig had hauled him as far as the blue section of the store—that's how Bonnefoy organized his store, by color, which was  _so_  creative—but he could no longer help. It was all on Feliciano. This was Feliciano's part of the mission.

Feliciano ripped through the various hanging clothes as Ludwig fended off attacks from behind.

Feliciano let out a triumphant shriek when he found the single rack containing the coveted piece of clothing. He ripped five shirts from the hangers before Ludwig caught hold of him again and dragged him back into the stream of shoppers. Feliciano hugged his shirts close, grinning ear-to-ear.

They were suddenly in the appliance section of the store, but it was already almost picked bare.

There was one Keurig machine left, right in the middle of the aisle.

There were two men on the other end of the aisle. One was taller than Ludwig and had a pleasant smile; the other was blond and loud.

The blond one pointed at them and yelled: "That's  _our_  Keurig!"

Ludwig tugged Feliciano a little closer to him. He was getting ready to sprint.

And then Ludwig was hauling ass towards the Keurig. The blond one let out a snarl and booked it in their direction. Feliciano was sure Ludwig was going to lose—carrying a whole other person probably didn't help with speed—but Ludwig skittered to a halt and practically fell on top of the box.

Ludwig was now wielding Feliciano in one arm, and the Keurig machine in the other. Feliciano seemed to weigh no more than a hairbrush to Ludwig; Feliciano let out a little mewl of pleasure at being hauled around like a sack of potatoes.

"Please," Ludwig said down to him as he turned towards the checkout line, "stop sounding so turned on by this."

Feliciano opened his mouth to respond that it was  _hot_ , but he noticed the blond guy had a murderous look on his face. He had a look on his face that told Feliciano absolutely everything he needed to know about this man.

So, Feliciano told Ludwig: "He's going to  _steal_  our  _Keurig_ , Ludwig!"

The blond guy was running after them. "All's fair on Black Friday!"

And while Ludwig had won in the first race, he now had to deal with the crowds of people in his way. The blond guy was steadily approaching.

Feliciano had a choice to make.

Feliciano looked down at his five shirts, found the smallest size (a size he, admittedly, hadn't fit into since high school), kissed it goodbye, and then threw it on the ground. He had to hold back tears.

The blond guy immediately slipped on the combination of sheer fabric and tiled floor, and by the time he had righted himself, Ludwig and Feliciano were safely sandwiched in the checkout line.

Feliciano waved at the blond guy.

Ludwig wasn't even out of breath. "I'm never doing this again. You'll have to bring your brother next year. This is—"

Feliciano turned and gave Ludwig a big hug. "You're the  _best_! I love you  _so much_  thank you  _so much_!" He hung off of Ludwig's neck. "I love you!"

Ludwig couldn't fight off his smile. "I love you."

 

* * *

 

Ludwig glared at the cashier. "This stuff is supposed to be on  _sale_."

Feliciano gaped at the price. "Ludwig, what a  _steal_!"

Ludwig bowed his head and handed over his credit card.

 

* * *

 

Feliciano emerged from the bathroom, holding his arms in the air. He walked to the bed and put one foot up onto the bedframe, hands on his hips, and posed. "What do you think?"

Ludwig nodded from where he sat cross-legged on the bed. "I think it compliments your skin tone very well."

Feliciano grinned, carefully removed the shirt, and then tackled Ludwig. He hugged him, relaxing against the muscle. "You were perfect. I couldn't have asked for a better Black Friday partner. And now I'm going to be the envy of  _every_  dinner party we go to for the next  _year_."

Ludwig ran a hand gently up and down Feliciano's back. "I don't doubt it."

"And do you like your Keurig?"

Ludwig pulled Feliciano closer and kissed him on the forehead. "I love the Keurig."


End file.
